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MY GUESTBOOK
�That�s good. I don�t know if many people would sacrifice something so important for their beliefs. The world would probably be a better place if more people would,� Stanley mused. I dimly recalled that Stanley had mentioned, years ago when he first came to talk to Josh after the whole �hand-through-the-window� thing, that he had never had much faith in politicians, that he had had believed the hype and clich� that clearly states that, as a group, politicians all dirty-dealing power-mongers. He had also said that, after meeting with the White House senior staff he felt a hell of a lot better about the state of the country. It hadn�t meant much at the time�my best friend was going through hell and there was literally nothing I could do to help him�but whenever I reflected upon Stanley�s words I felt a little bit better about what we did in those hallowed�without the silent pound sign, which I still haven�t lived down�halls. �Do you feel guilty for not giving the campaign everything you have to give?�
That answer is, once again, impossible for me to lock on to. That answer is fluid; capricious and mutable. One moment I feel nothing but guilt, feeling like I failed somehow, that I let everyone down. The next I don�t feel anything but free, free of the struggle and would only continue if I were to win, free of the scrutiny that would be more intense for me than other members of Congress for the simple fact that many people would see me as the President�s mole within Congress and my every move would be watched as if I were a suspected terrorist waiting for the right moment to take out any and all opposition of President Bartlet.
Since I can�t pin down an answer to the �guilty or not� question he posed, I tell him that, and again he makes one of his blind notes and even lets out a thoughtful �hmm� that put the image of the stereotypical portrayal of Freud sitting on the couch that I�d gotten from the local Rent-a-Centre since I didn�t plan on sticking around Southern California longer than I had to and I didn�t want to get my hopes up and my apartment decorated and furnished if I was only going to be in it until I got my ass kicked. If I had won I would have bought furniture, made my small apartment into a home since I would have to have one within my district.
Stanley looked at me for a moment, as if he was sizing me up�or possibly sizing up my ability to hear the truth from someone who is essentially a total stranger�and then he said, �Why are you still here?�